The Sweater
by Richefic
Summary: Just why did Jackson Gibbs give Tony that nice sweater in "Heartland"? Many Spoilers for the Season 6 episode.
1. Chapter 1

AN- Many apologies for those of you waiting for the ending of Safe Harbor but between RL landing from a great hieght and Tony being stubborn I'm a bit stuck on the ending .. but it will come to me .. in the meantime I finally worked out why Jackson Gibbs gave DiNozzo that darned sweater. This is pretty much finished and will be up over the next few days.

* * *

Gibbs took a long swallow of his coffee as he reflected. The case was closed Nick Kingston had been arrested. Justice had been served. Hell, he had even managed to find enough common ground with his father to accept his invitation to dinner and a bed for the night for him and his team. But his usual sense of satisfaction at a job well done was missing. Looking around at his team it wasn't hard to pinpoint the cause of his unease. Ziva was curled up in a chair reading a classic American novel with total concentration, McGee was doing something or other on his laptop and Abby was wielding the pricing gun like a maniac as she flirted with Jack.

DiNozzo was no-where to be seen.

Gibbs scrubbed at his face. He had been afraid of this. It was one of the reasons he had tried to leave his senior field Agent back in DC to follow up on the Taylor family. Enough time had passed that he'd known coming back to Stillwater would lead to some kind of reconciliation with his father. In his heart he had already forgiven the man some time ago. It was only his stubborn pride that had kept him from picking up the phone and telling him so. Frankly he was downright ashamed of that. He'd had every intention of dropping by once the case was closed. It was past time that they made their peace.

But he'd known how hard that would be for DiNozzo to watch.

He'd been dammed lucky growing up. Jackson Gibbs was a good man. He had worked for years in the dust and danger of the mine to give his son the chance to reach for the skies. And when he feared that one more close call might cost his family their only breadwinner he had opened the store and worked ever hour God sent to ensure his loved ones never went without. Right up until his mother died Gibbs' white wicket picket fence childhood had been everything that DiNozzo's privileged Long Island upbringing wasn't.

With a sigh he came to his decision. Topping up his coffee cup he added four large spoonfuls of sugar, making it just the way DiNozzo liked it, before going in search of his senior field Agent.

He found him exactly where he had known he would be, sitting on the floor of the old out building, with his back against the wall, his eyes dark and unreadable as he stared at the lovingly restored challenger. Without a word Gibbs stepped out of the late afternoon sunshine into the dappled shadows to settle on the dirt floor beside him, resolutely ignoring the popping of his busted knee, as he made sure that their shoulders and thighs were accidently touching. Silently, he passed across the mug, watching as Tony wrapped his hands around its comforting warmth, before taking a cautious sniff and an even more wary swallow, his eyes widening in surprise as he recognised Gibbs' version of an opening.

"How did you know, Boss?" Tony asked quietly.

Gibbs didn't pretend to mis-understand him. They had known each other too long for that. And they both recognised in Chuck Winslow the type of ruthless bastard who would do whatever it took to get ahead in business. The man hadn't been lying when he said he had done a lot of bad things in his life. Little wonder that DiNozzo's saw shades of his own father in him. Except, Gibbs knew how important family was to Winslow, there was no way he would have harmed a hair on the head of his own son. He only wished he could say the same about David DiNozzo.

"Most fathers don't set out to hurt their kids," He allowed with a little shrug, trying to take the sting out of his words. "That doesn't mean they can't screw up some."

"That what happened with you and Jack?" Tony wanted to know.

Any other time Gibbs might have told him it was none of his business. But here and now he could see the loss in DiNozzo's eyes and hear the pain in his voice. If eight years of putting up with his crap hadn't earned the younger man the right to know, then growing up with a father who had never managed to give the kid one iota of the affection and approval he craved, sure as hell did. Back in the day Gibbs' rift with his own father had been key to getting DiNozzo to understand that trust ran both ways. He wasn't about to let their reconciliation be the thing that tore that trust apart.

"He brought a date to their funeral." Gibbs knew he didn't have to explain who 'they' were.

"Oh," Tony said his voice soft with understanding. Then he pressed his lips together considering. "Still, must have been hard on him, loosing his daughter-in-law and his granddaughter like that. Maybe, he couldn't face it alone."

"You always have to think the best of people?" Gibbs asked, a little testily.

"Not even close," Tony shook his head. "But I think your Dad is essentially a good guy."

"Yeah," Gibbs couldn't help but agree. "I know."

"And you've got to admit," Tony's gaze took in the car, as he thought about the hours of painstaking work it must have taken, out here without electricity, to restore the challenger to its former glory. "As apologies go, that's pretty impressive."

"Tony." The gentle tone said everything words could not.

"I know, Boss," Tony smiled over brightly. "And don't get me wrong. I'm much better off without that man in my life but how many kids don't dream that one day their father with give them a really cool car?"

"DiNozzo." Gibbs warned.

The kid should know better than to think that kind of BS would work with him. Still, he took no satisfaction in the way that Tony instantly sobered, looking away as if the memories were too painful to share. They sat there in silence for several minutes, before the temptation got too much for Gibbs and he plucked the rapidly cooling coffee out of DiNozzo's hand and took a swallow, grimacing at the too sweet taste.

"How can you drink that?" He demanded.

"It's an acquired taste," DiNozzo snatched it back, cradling the mug protectively. "One I acquired to stop you stealing my coffee!"

Gibbs eye brows shot up at that admission before his face crinkled into a rueful smile. All these years and he had never suspected that. Reaching up he saw Tony brace himself for a head slap, but instead Gibbs simply ruffled his hair fondly. Any parent who felt anything but pride when their kid out smarted them was a dammed fool in his book.

"Atta boy."

"Really?" Tony visibly brightened at the unexpected praise. Then he pouted. "You know one of these days I'm going to get you to say these things in front of witnesses."

"Your head would explode." Gibbs vetoed that.

"That's OK, Boss," Tony gave him a loopy grin. "I know how you really feel about me."

Gibbs gave him an old-fashioned look. Tony had always _known _that Gibbs' loved him he had just had a hell of time believing that he deserved it. But things had gradually changed over the years and Gibbs determination to go toe-to-toe with Vance, to bring him home to DC, even after Jenny had been killed on his watch, had gone a hell of a long way to banish those insecurities for good. Gibbs refused to consider that any softening of attitude on his part, after he had seen the kid blown up during the whole Frog thing and blown apart by the whole Langer thing, not to mention being made Agent Afloat like he was the unwanted step-son being shipped off to military school, had had anything to do with it.

Still.

This was his hometown. The case was closed. DiNozzo was particularly bursting with curiosity about his childhood. Would it do any harm to show the kid around some?


	2. Chapter 2

AN - Many thanks doe all the reviews - still stuck on SH but will try and get the rest of this up over the next couple of days. About four chapters altogether I think.

* * *

Gibbs wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed by the way that DiNozzo soaked up every detail of his fairly average childhood. From the little league diamond at his elementary school, to the old style diner where he had had his first kiss over an ice-cream soda, and the High School football field where he had experienced the thrill of being a local hero, the kid acted like he was on the Elvis tour at Graceland or something.

"You ever miss it, Boss?" DiNozzo asked, as his eyes tracked a couple of kids playing catch with their Dad on the expanse of well tended grass, the freshly painted goals standing sentry at each end of the field. "That feeling as you race down the field, eyes for nothing but the ball?"

Gibbs' face crinkled into a frown at the unaccustomed note of loss in the younger man's voice. DiNozzo wasn't exactly the type to be maudlin. He was too much like Gibbs in that way he buried his hurts, deep enough to fool most casual observers.

"Baseball's always been more my game." He admitted truthfully.

"C'mon, Boss," Tony wouldn't look at him, which in itself was telling enough in Gibbs' book. "I've seen the photos. You were the star football player your senior year. You must have some good memories of this place."

"Thought you liked being a Federal Agent?" Gibbs asked, more casually than he felt. He could only imagine how hard it had been for the younger man to see his dreams of professional sporting glory snatched away, not by lack of talent or dedication, but the cruel twist of serious injury. At least when he left active service for NCIS it had been his own choice.

Tony didn't answer at once, as his eyes drifted between the kids playing in the late summer sun inwards to some memory that made his features crinkle with remembered pain.

"Some dreams are harder to let go of than others." He admitted finally, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking DiNozzo for embarrassed.

The soft voiced confession made Gibbs' eyes narrow. DiNozzo wasn't talking about the tattered remnants of his professional football career. Looking in his turn at the kids laughing with sheer pleasure and their good natured barging for attention as their Dad threw the ball, Gibbs wondered how many times Tony had pleaded with his own father to toss a ball about with him. Too dammed many times Gibbs reckoned. If the man standing next to him was any indication DiNozzo hadn't been a kid that gave up easily.

"Stay put."

Without looking back to see his senior field Agent's reaction to the order Gibbs strode out across the field. As he approached the family and fished in his pocket for his billfold, there might have been a few words about 'my son Tony over there' and wanting to highjack their ball in return for a round of ice cream sundaes, but seeing as there were no other witnesses Gibbs' didn't see any reason why he had to admit to any of that as he returned to where DiNozzo waited on the touchline, with the ball tucked under his arm.

"Boss?" Tony's expression was something between incredulity and glee at what he had just done.

"Well?" Gibbs gave him a 'what the hell are you waiting for, DiNozzo?" stare. "Go long."

Tony didn't need telling twice as his face creased into a rare genuine smile and he took off at a dead run, Gibbs waited until he had gone some distance before he pitched the ball, feeling a surge of pride as Tony rose up easily to catch it. Slipping out of his jacket and dropping it on the ground he was pleased at the way long forgotten moves came back to him and the throbbing in his knee was a small price to pay for the exuberant whoops and yells coming from his senior field Agent.

Afterwards, he would blame himself for letting the game go on for far too long, pushing the still athletic young man to the very edge of his physical endurance. But at the time all he was thinking about was banishing the shadows in his eyes and trying to avoid the nightmares which always resurfaced at times like this. He hoped that the combination of his steady presence and the hard physical exercise would do the trick. So, at the time he viewed the laboured breathing and the dark patches of rapidly cooling sweat staining his top with nothing but satisfaction.

The grin on DiNozzo's face wasn't half bad either.

"Not bad for an old guy," Tony teased, looking up from where he was resting his hands on his thighs, as he began to slow his breathing. "You have a pretty good arm, Boss."

"Kept in practice throwing hand grenades when I was in the Corps." Gibbs deadpanned.

"Really?" Tony tipped his head on one side, considering. Given what he knew of Gibbs that was just bizarre enough to be true. "That might explain why you just stood there and let me make all the plays."

"Just for that, I get first dibbs on the shower and you get to make the coffee." Gibbs smirked.

A hot shower and a fresh pot of coffee before dinner seemed like a good enough plan for right now. He'd have to think about after dinner. The stars in the clear night sky might make a pretty good substitute for the boat. Gibbs was pretty sure David DiNozzo had never taken the time to teach his son about constellations. Maybe they should pick up some beer or bourbon on the way just to ease things along some.

"Hold on." He paused outside the liquor store.

"Already ahead of you, Boss," Tony grinned at him, as he he fished in his pocket for the keys and popped open the trunk of the car he and Abby had driven down here. "I packed a little something extra in my overnight bag. I figured that since you and your father hadn't seen each other in a while things might be a little awkward, wouldn't hurt any to have a little something to make the conversation flow. Not that your conversation every exactly flows but .. I'll shut up now."

"Figured you'd need an overnight bag, huh?" Gibbs raised a brow. "Just how long were you planning on staying, DiNozzo?"

"Hey," Tony didn't look the least bit repentant as "I know how to be prepared. McGee isn't the only one with a scouting background."

"You never made past Cub scout," Gibbs reminded him. "They kicked you out for trying to score Brownie points."

Tony paused in the act of extracting a large cardboard box from a bag in the trunk festooned with a bright red bow, furrowing his brow at Gibbs as he tried to remember. "Did I tell you that? I could swear I never told you that."

"That's pretty fancy bourbon." Gibbs raised a brow, as he reached in and extracted one of the bottles, turning it around in his hand. Casting his eyes over the other bottles standing sentry he reckoned the box couldn't have cost him much shy of $600.

"The bow was too much wasn't it?" Tony winced.

"DiNozzo."

Gibbs sighed. He really thought he had begun to win this particular battle. The ex-marine was all for good manners and common curtsies in social situations. But brought up the way he had been Tony never seemed able to take even the simplest of kindness or hospitality without feeling the need to make some over extravagant gesture in response. Gibbs would never forget the time about eighteen months into DiNozzo's tenure at NCIS when he had had to go out of town on a reservist training weekend and left Tony in situ whilst his own place was being fumigated. Fearing that his usual steak dinner were no longer adequate thanks to repay his Boss' generosity the kid had arranged to have his kitchen re-modelled in his absence.

That hadn't gone so well.

"Too showy?" Tony's face fell as he looked back at the decadent purchase. He had just wanted to help his Boss set the right tone for reconciliation with his Dad. And maybe make the point that Gibbs was a successful guy who had people who loved and respected him. But now that he was here and had spent some time with Jack he could see that the expensive liquor might seem out of place. "Never mind, I'll go buy some beers or something. And Abby will want Caff Pow or at least Red Bull. And Ziva probably won't drink anything but .."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs cut him off his rambling with a tolerant roll of his eyes. "This is fine. Why don 't you go give it to him?"

"Me?" Tony baulked.

"Your gift, you get to give it," Gibbs acknowledged. If that wasn't a rule then it probably should be. He knew his father would be touched by the gesture and if they were going to start building bridges then he was going to have to suck it up and let these two speak to one another sooner or later. "I'm going to hit the shower. There had better be coffee waiting when I get out."

"Age before beauty, right Boss?" Tony flashed him an impudent grin.

"Don't make me repeat myself, DiNozzo." His growl didn't fool either of them.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Boss." Tony grimaced, as he struggled inside with the heavy box. Gibbs hid his grin as he opened the door for him, before heading upstairs to the small bathroom.

Gratefully peeling off his dirty and sweat soaked clothing, Gibbs turned the faucet to allow the water to warm up a little before stepping into the welcome spray and rubbing the soap to a lather as he washed with the quick, economic, movements which were the habit of a life in service. He wanted to be done before DiNozzo got too chilled after his exertions but he knew for a fact that if he had let him take the first turn he would have stayed in until he was wrinkled as a prune and had used up all the hot water.

A few minutes later, dressed in his 'off duty' clothes of a clean red sweat shirt and jeans he padded downstairs, his nose twitching at the welcome scent of coffee brewing. Ignoring McGee and Ziva he poured himself a cup, taking an" appreciative swallow before his eyes lit on the box of bourbon left abandoned on the counter, still wearing its luxurious bow. He frowned at it, trying to quell the nagging feeling in his gut that something was wrong.

"Hey son, Dinner will be ready shortly." His father came in from the small kitchen out back, wiping his hands on a cloth as he looked around. "Where has that other young man of yours got to? Abby's been helping me in the kitchen and there's gonna be hell to pay if her soufflé doesn't get to make its grand entrance right on cue."

"You know, I was just wondering the same thing," Gibbs fixed his two remaining Agents with a look. "Where the hell has DiNozzo got to?"


	3. Chapter 3

"The Sherriff's deputy called by, Boss," McGee spoke up without even taking his eyes off whatever he was looking at one the screen, his fingers continuing to move across the keys. "He needed someone from NCIS to go with to sign off on some paperwork to transfer Kingston to the county town for trial."

"Didn't we already take care of all of that?" Gibbs frowned.

"Apparently this particular deputy is very young and rather new to his post," Ziva supplied. "And he omitted to give us all the required forms."

"In other words, he screwed up." McGee re-joined a trifle smugly.

"Uh huh," Gibbs' tone was unreadable. "And signing this piece of paper required the experience and expertise of my senior field Agent?"

"Um," McGee glanced up, for the first time appreciating that perhaps his Boss was not entirely happy. "He volunteered?"

"DiNozzo volunteered?" Gibbs put a wealth of meaning into those two words. If it was a question of putting himself in harm's way from a bomb or a bullet Gibbs knew his senior field agent would step up, every dammed time. But riding halfway across town just to put his moniker on a piece of paper was exactly the sort of thing he would usually delegate and rightly so, especially given that he was already dead on his feet.

"Actually he lost a bet." McGee admitted reluctantly.

Gibbs chest tightened as he looked from Ziva's now somewhat concerned look to McGee's positively nervous expression. Whatever had happened here it wasn't good if DiNozzo had had to suck it up and set off on what was essentially a Probie's errand.

"What kind of bet?"

"We were discussing whether or not your father had kept any of your childhood toys," McGee looked positively awkward now. "Tony laughed at the very idea. He said your Dad probably sent all your stuff to chariety as soon as you enlisted in the Marines."

It took all of Gibbs' self control not to wince on his senior Agent's behalf. He knew that his parents had carefully stored all his childhood belongings with an eye to future grandchildren. Admittedly, Kelly hadn't been that interested in his cars and forts but he and Shannon had encouraged Jack to keep everything, as they hadn't discounted the possibility of trying for another child. Gibbs doubted David DiNozzo had given a second thought to his son's childhood treasures. He had probably had all Tony's toys thrown in the trash the second his son was shipped off to military school aged just twelve.

"Your Dad had already showed me the boxes under the stairs," McGee was still talking. "I thought Tony was going to pass out when he saw the matchbox 1961 Ferrari 1561FI. He said some guy named Phil Hill won the Formula One drivers championship in that car. Only 156 toy models were ever made and everyone thought none of those still survived."

"Hold on," Gibbs wanted to get this straight. "You made a bet with DiNozzo about something you already knew about?"

"I did not know about this." Ziva looked disapproving. Teasing Tony was one thing but she had enough childhood issues of her own to understand that some lines were not to be crossed.

"It was just a joke, Boss," McGee tried to defend himself. "Tony pulls that kind of stuff all the time."

Gibbs pressed his lips together. Part of him knew it was unfair of him to expect a kid like McGee, raised in a happy home with loving parents, to appreciate what it must have been like for Tony as a kid growing up. But the other part of him expected his people to be observant and it was way past time that McGee learned the difference between the stunts DiNozzo pulled to toughen him up and make him a better investigator and the way McGee always seemed to want to get one over his partner cum elder sibling.

"You see me laughing, McGee?" He snapped. "Find DiNozzo."

As the younger man ducked his head and set to work Gibbs tried to bite down on his worry. DiNozzo could take care of himself. Never mind that his Boss had deliberately pushed him hard, until he was hovering on the edge of exhaustion, or that he was out there with damp, sweat soaked clothes clinging to his clammy body. It was just a short drive across town in the early evening sun to sign a dammed piece of paper. Surely not even DiNozzo could turn that into another trip to the ER.

"Uh oh." McGee vocalised.

"Uh oh, what?" Gibbs snapped.

"I found him, Boss. At least, I think I did. He's a few clicks out of town near the old mining works, which doesn't seem to be right because the Sherrif's office is in the opposite direction."

"McGee. Is it DiNozzo or isn't it?"

"It's definitely his cell," McGee responded as honestly as he could. "But there is only one way to tell if it's actually Tony."

"Damn it, McGee, I could have just called him five minutes ago!" Gibbs pressed his speed dial.

"Boss," DiNozzo's hurried voice answered him. "I was just about to call you. We were heading to the Sherriff's office when we got an emergency call over the radio. There's a little girl here, she says her name is Molly Anders. She was out riding her bike with her friend Donny when she fell down an abandoned mine shaft. Donny called his Mom for help and we were the closest vehicle. Punky Brewster here has already asked for re-enforcements from the Sherriff's office but I would feel much better if I had NCI-us watching my six."

"Your boy in trouble, Leroy?" Jack frowned, his eyes crinkling with concern.

"Stay with Abby will you?," Gibbs asked as he collecting his remaining Agents with a jerk of the head as he headed out back no doubt in his mind that the Challenger was the fastest route to his erstwhile Agent. "DiNozzo, we're on our way. You stay put until we get there. That's an order, you hear me?"

"Sorry, Boss, you're breaking up here," Tony responded through the line that Gibbs heard clear as a bell. "But I got a nine year girl here scared and alone down in the water and we've already tied off the ropes. It's just a simple rappel down even Probie could manage it."

"DiNozzo." Gibbs hollered, even as he put the Challenger into gear and put his foot flat to the floor. He knew Tony was a dammed good climber, but he was also too physical tired and emotionally spent to be even thinking about attempting something this dangerous with only some green kid who couldn't get his own paperwork right watching his six. "You try and be a dammed hero and I'll personally kick your ass right off my team, do you hear me?"

"Sorry, Boss," Gibbs could hear DiNozzo moving, even as he spoke, shifting the cell from one ear to another as he freed up his hands for whatever he was doing. "Can't hear a word you're saying, but if Punky here drops me on my ass you have my full permission to shoot him."

"Damn." As DiNozzo hung up Gibbs vented his frustration by throwing the cell out of the car window and putting his foot flat to the floor. "McGee, ETA."

"At this speed, we should get there before we even left," McGee gulped.

Gibbs took a moment to reflect that the kid had been spending far too much time with DiNozzo if he could make a quip like that even under these circumstances. However, before he could act on that thought Ziva supplied the requested information.

"About fifteen minutes, Gibbs."

They made it there in ten but it still wasn't fast enough. They arrived to find the young Deputy pale and shaking as he gazed helplessly down the abandoned mine shaft, whose wooden cover had become soft and rotten with age, enough to give way in a couple of crucial places. Gibbs looked at the rope burns on his pale hands, and the rope marks leading from a nearby uprooted tree through the sand into the shaft, took on board the lack of any actual rope to tether his Agent to safety and asked the only question his brain could manage to form.

"What the hell happened?"

"I'm sorry," The young Deputy sounded close to tears. "I tried to hold him, but the rope just kept slipping through my hands, and then the tree lifted clean out of the ground and I tried to hold on but it burned so bad and I let go and all I could hear was his yell as he fell into the water. I haven't been able to get a word out of him since. I'm sorry."

"How long ago?" Gibbs forced himself to concentrate on the essentials.

"Five minutes," The Deputy admitted miserably. "Maybe ten."


	4. Chapter 4

AN- Sorry for the delay - just seemed to come to a grinding halt. Next chapter coming real soon.

* * *

Gibbs' first reaction was a wash of cold, sick, terror. DiNozzo could not die here. Not in his hometown. Not when the younger man had grown into an Agent who made Gibbs' heart swell with pride. And sure as hell not when the relationship that they had been painstakingly forging longer than his daughter had been alive had matured into a bond of mutual respect and affection that Gibbs knew dammed well would be irreplaceable.

He would _not_ allow it. Not on his watch.

Approaching the opening, he pulled aside one of the rotted planks which were supposed to cover the mine shaft and crouched down in the sandy earth, caring for nothing but getting a response from his Agent.

"DiNozzo! Report!"

The long seconds of silence that followed cut into his soul. Then just as he was about to open his mouth to holler again he heard a soft moan of pain followed by some heart-hearted splashing sounds. Quelling the leap of hope in his soul, he kept his voice stern and commanding.

"So help me, DiNozzo, if you are laying down on the job, I will kick your ass. Report!"

"Gibbs?"

Jethro's head snapped sideways at the unexpected interjection, looking up into the wide, worried eyes of Abigail Scutio, his father hovering at her shoulder, his face creased with concern. Gibbs looked accusingly at Jackson Gibbs. This sure as hell wasn't what he had had in mind when he had told him to stay with Abby.

"You asked me to stay with her. You didn't say anything about where we should be. She was worried," Jack shrugged unrepentantly. Then his eyes narrowed in something of a reproof. "You don't think you're being kinda harsh, son? That boy down there might be hurting pretty bad. "

Gibbs sucked in breath, struggling to hold on to his temper, as he fought to remind himself it wasn't his father's fault that he had absolutely no clue what was going on here. Looking at Abby's distraught features he softened his expression and dredged up a reassuring smile for the anxious lab tech.

"He'll be okay, Abs. You know, DiNozzo. He's the poster boy for having nine lives."

"But he's not answering you, Bossman," Abby's eyes brimmed with tears. "Tony never goes against your orders. Not never ever."

"He'll answer," Gibbs assured her, his voice loud and confident enough to carry into the depths below. "If he knows what's good for him."

"B ..Boss?"

The word was soft with pain and disorientation but Gibbs had to swallow hard at the note of absolute trust in that one word. Swallowing, his own feelings and blinking back the tears of relief that welled in his eyes, he was only dimly aware of Abby's joyous cry, before she buried her face in Jack's shirt. And totally unaware of the way his father fixed him with a questioning gaze.

"About time, DiNozzo," Gibbs' tone was gruff. "You with me?"

"Apart from me being way down here and you being way up there, I think so," Tony spoke slowly through obvious discomfort. "Knew you'd make it here before the locals, not that you're not local, but well, you're Gibbs."

"DiNozzo."

Gibbs put concern and command into that one word. He needed to know how badly his Agent was hurt.

"I'm just peachy, Boss," The words were slightly slurred. "I'd like to introduce you to my latest girlfriend. She is as cute as a button. Tell the nice man your name, honey."

"My name's Molly and I'm cold." A small voice said.

"We know, Molly. Uncle Jethro up there is going to get us both out of here and then you are going to get the best hot chocolate in the whole world, with marshmallows and whipped cream and everything," Tony reassured. "Isn't that, right, Uncle Jethro?"

"You can have whatever you want, Molly," Gibbs promised. "Apart from being cold honey, do you hurt anywhere?"

"My arms hurts." Molly sniffed like she was trying hard not to cry.

"And how is our handsome hero doing?" Gibbs enquired.

"Low blow, Boss." Tony's voice protested, knowing that the child would blithely confess injuries that his professionalism and personal pride might have kept hidden.

"Shut up, DiNozzo," Gibbs retorted without heat. "I'm talking with Molly."

"He hit his head on the wall when he fell and he wouldn't talk to me for a really long while. I was scared for him." Molly spoke up.

"Uh huh," Gibbs kept his tone neutral. "Anything else you want to share with me, DiNozzo?"

"Boss," Tony hissed, embarrassment colouring his tone. "We're not exactly alone here."

So, he was hurting, Gibbs realised. But hopefully nothing too serious, as his voice had gradually become stronger and more resolute. Nothing seemed to be broken, a few bumps and bruises maybe and his breathing was a little ragged, that was Gibbs greatest concern, way past tine to get them both out of that freezing water.

"Ziva." He barked.

"The Sherriff is here as is the child's mother," Ziva was instantly at his side, climbing ropes already in her hands. "The paramedics are on stand by. I have briefed them on Tony's medical history. I have also persuaded the Sherriff that I am the most experienced climber to rappel down and rescue the girl. I can also take a rope to facilitate Tony's return to the surface," For a moment her personal feelings overcame her professionalism and her eyes darkened with concern. "Is he alright?"

"For now."

Gibbs' tone made no promises as to how healthy his senior field Agent might be once he got him back safe and well. Ziva wasn't fooled, she knew that the root of Gibbs' anger was actually frustration and concern for the young man he loved like a son.

"McGee." Gibbs bit out.

The young man hurried up, his expression anxious. He knew that he had screwed up but he hoped Gibbs wouldn't be so cruel as to expect him to be the one to abseil down the shaft knowing his acute fear of heights.

"Keep the mother occupied." Gibbs ordered shortly, his lack of eye contact and stiff body language leaving the junior Agent in no doubt that he was still in disgrace. McGee nodded miserably and slunk away.

"What about me?" Jackson Gibbs asked.

"There's nothing much left around here to use as an anchor point," Gibbs assessed rapidly. "I'll need you, the Sherriff and his Deputy to hold the line, I'll feed the ropes down to Ziva," Glancing up, his fixed the female Agent with a serious look. "You don't take any chances, the last thing I need is two of my people at the bottom of that shaft."

"Understood." Ziva nodded.

It took only a matter of minutes before the ropes were tied off and the well- trained Mossard Agent made quick work of descending the abandoned mining shaft. Gibbs felt a surge of pride in his people as DiNozzo put his own pain and exhaustion aside to charm the clinging, frightened, child to go with the Israeli woman and Ziva let her guard down sufficiently to win the little girl's trust, much as she once must have coaxed her beloved younger sister.

He expected no less of his tem.

Even so, he rewarded Ziva with a heartfelt smile as she re-united the little girl with her mother. Then he ignored the burning in his own palms as he drew the rope hand over hand to pull his senior field Agent to the surface until DiNozzo was flopping on his stomach on the arid ground like a big game fish plucked out of water.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs was the first to reach his side. "You okay?"

The younger man looked pale and spent. His clothing was saturated with cold, dirty contaminated, water, the smell issuing from enough to make a lessor man gag, his skin was pale and clammy and his lips were tinged with blue. But with a super human effort he rolled his eyes sideways to look up at his Boss and force his features into a grin.

"Shaken not stirred, Boss," He managed. "Sorry, about the jacket. I'd kill for a hot bath and a decent Pizza though."

"I don't give a damm about the jacket," Gibbs protested, even as deft, careful, hands patted his Agent down, If DiNozzo was opting for a bath over a shower there was probably some bruising for him to worry about. But right now he'd settle for no broken bones. "I see your pizza and raise you a nice Hospital tray."

"What?" Tony blinked, his eyes going wide as he craned his neck to make eye contact. "Boss. C'mon, I don't need a Hospital."

"Don't you think you think you're over re-acting some son?" Jackson Gibbs interjected, concerned at the boy's reaction at the mere mention of a Hospital stay. "It's just a drop of cold water. It won't kill him."

He realised by their reactions that he had somehow said a very wrong thing. Abby choked back an anguished sob, McGee looked on his face frozen with horror, even Ziva seemed to pale as she swallowed hard. Looking at his son, Leroy's face was tight and closed, a pain Jack had never again expected to see burning in his eyes, the pain of a parent who fears the loss of a child.

To Jack's surprise, it was it the young fella who spoke first, forcing himself up onto one arm, with obvious discomfort, even as he pasted a bright smile on his face.

"Abby, don't worry, I'm fine. Gibbs is just being a worry-wort. You know how he gets."

Jackson Gibbs felt his brow shoot up in surprise at hearing his taciturn son referred to in such terms. Glancing across to see how his boy had taken his subordinate's words he was surprise to see Leroy's eyes dark with memory as he spoke up his tone thick with rebuke.

"You almost died, remember?"

"According to my Boss," The kid seemed blithely unaware that he was baiting a bear with a sore head. "Almost only counts with horse shoes and hand grenades. Look, I'll let the Paramedics check me over and I'll even fill out that prescription Brad makes me carry and I promise to eat right and wrap up warm and .."

"This is not a dammed joke, DiNozzo!" Gibbs flared, fear and frustration fuelling his white hot anger. "You will get your ass in gear and you will get into that dammed Ambulance and you will stay in the Hospital until they clear you for release or you are off my team."


	5. Chapter 5

The dead silence that greeted his son's outburst, plus the uneasy glances that passed between Ziva and McGee, were all the evidence that Jackson Gibbs needed to realise this was an unexpected development. Since Leroy had arrived back in Stillwater he had seen his boy manipulate all manner of things to catch his killer but that had been calculated and strictly controlled. This was raw emotion. He looked at the young fella, half expecting his shoulders to sag in defeat. But DiNozzo surprised him.

"Gibbs."

That single word and way the younger man's eyes slid towards Abby was a subtle rebuke._ You're scaring her._

Jack felt his eyebrows rise. He knew better than anyone that his son was a stubborn SOB when he set his mind to something. He'd liked DiNozzo well enough, but to his mind the youngster had seemed almost painfully anxious for Leroy's approval. This showed real backbone and a streak of stubborn wide enough to rival his boy. Jackson tipped his head on one side, a thought half-forming in his head as he waited to see how this would play out.

"DiNozzo." Leroy's tone was half warning, half weariness, as if this was a dance they had done many times before.

"Ziva," Tony looked at his partner. "Go back down and collect a sample of that water for analysis. Get the Sherriff to help you. I don't know how much Molly swallowed, so give it to the Paramedics. The Hospital might need it."

"On it." The Israeli accepted his orders without question.

"McGee," Tony turned his head. "You go with the Deputy and sign off on that paperwork for Harding. I'm dammed if I'm going to let that bastard walk because I went for a little swim."

"Um." McGee's eyes swivelled towards Gibbs.

"Do it." The ex-marine barked, his eyes still fixed on DiNozzo.

"Abby," Tony softened his tone and dredged up a smile over his pain to reassure her. "I'm getting kinda chilled. Think you could find me a blanket or something?"

Abby straightened almost to attention, as her face transformed from fear and worry to determination and a sense of purpose.

"I will find you the best, warmest and fluffiest blanket in this whole darn town!" she declared, in John Wayne style homage, before snapping off a sloppy salute. Then she frowned. "Wait, you're not allergic to wool or anything are you?"

"Not allergic, Abs." Tony reassured.

Satisfied, the young Goth turned on her heel and strutted towards the Paramedics buoyed by a sense of purpose and a knowledge that she was helping, leaving Gibbs, Jack and Tony alone.

"Sit rep." Leroy demanded in a tone that said lie and die.

"Nothing broken, the water broke my fall, but I hit my head on the way down, was pretty out of it for a minute or two." DiNozzo replied with more honesty than Jack had expected.

"Any nausea, double vision?"

"No concussion." Tony assured him.

"Anything else?"

Jackson looked between the two of them. The young fella had done a pretty good job covering but it was obvious that he was in a fair bit of pain. Question was whether he would trust Leroy enough to tell him any details. Jack realised he was pretty curious to know the answer to that himself.

"Um, I kinda hit my butt on the wall of the shaft as I went down," Tony coloured slightly. "Just a few bruises, nothing to worry about, I've had much worse than that when I was a kid and I used my Dad's ski-suit to make a Halloween costume."

The way Leroy's expression darkened, suggested to Jack that wasn't entirely reassuring.

"You hit your coccyx?"

"Maybe," DiNozzo hedged. "But my breathing is fine and I didn't swallow any of the water. I really don't need to go to Hospital, Boss."

"DiNozzo." The word was a warning.

"Boss, please," Tony pressed on regardless. "You think any of the local yokels will have the first clue what is going on with me? Who knows my breathing better than you? If I am going to start coughing up a lung there's no-one I'd rather have watching my six."

"Tony," Gibbs sighed. But then, much to Jackson's surprised he compromised. "You let the medics check you over, you take the meds Pitt prescribed for you, and if I think there is the first hint of trouble you will get your ass to Hospital. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Boss." Tony nodded, and there was no mistaking the fond affection in his smile.

"You need a hand getting over there?" Gibbs was back to uncompromising.

"No," Tony levered himself to his feet, his jaw set with determination to prove how 'well' he was. "I'm on it, Boss."

Jack bided his time until the young fella had wandered well out of earshot towards the ambulance and small cluster of paramedics and other people gathered around Molly. He watched as the weary dark haired figure was met by Abby hurrying back with a blanket, not uttering a word of protest as she wrapped it around his shoulders and enclosed him in a fierce hug.

"There a reason I feel like I'm missing something here, son?" He asked calmly.

"He had the plague," Leroy answered bleakly after several seconds. The words were flat but there was a wealth of emotion behind them. "About six years ago some kooky chick with a grudge from the seventies sent an envelope with a genetically altered strain of the virus to NCIS. DiNozzo inhaled the power and was given a fifteen percent change of survival."

"He had the plague?" Jackson blinked. That was not what he had expected. "Like they had in the Middle Ages?"

"Uh huh," Gibbs confirmed his eyes still dark and hooded, as he reflected on those long days and even longer nights, as he has sat by his Agent's bedside, watching him fight for each breath as he coughed up blood. "His lungs are permanently scarred. Any kind of chest infection is a risk."

"I'm sorry son, I had no idea." Jackson apologised sincerely. Then he frowned in genuine puzzlement. "If things are that bad why on earth was he so all fire concerned about his jacket?"

"I gave him that jacket as a birthday present. Dammed thing cost me almost a month's salary." Leroy tried to huff.

Jackson Gibbs hid his smile. He knew he had brought his son up to appreciate the value of money. He recognised Leroy's wardrobe as the kind of functional clothing a man could buy at Sears or any department store. The second he had seen DiNozzo walk into the store he had realised that the young fella was used to high end tastes. The fact that Leroy would put aside his own principles to indulge the kid spoke volumes. Their relationship obviously went much deeper than just a Boss and his subordinate.

"Gibbs," Ziva waited for permission to approach. At the ex-marine's nod she came forward. "I have given the water sample to the Paramedics. The child has broken her arm but seems otherwise unharmed. They are taking her to the Hospital for observation. Tony is wet and a little cold, but his lungs are clear. He insists he did not swallow any of the water."

"Anything else?"

Gibbs exchanged a look with his father. They had both noticed that there had been no mention of the bruising that Tony had admitted to them. Gibbs' jaw tightened at the thought. Knowing DiNozzo he had flashed that smile of his, masked his dis-comfort and charmed everyone into thinking he was 'just fine'.

He supposed he should be grateful that whilst DiNozzo might evade, fudge, and bluster that they had long ago established that he would never lie to him.

"In the circumstances, I have made enquires at the local Motel," Ziva continued. "I also have booked rooms, for myself, Abby and McGee, since you will be with staying with Tony in the Hospital it does not seem appropriate that we all impose upon your father."

Jack opened his mouth to protest, after all hadn't they already decided that Tony wasn't going to admitted to Hospital? Only to be silenced by a sharp look from his son and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Trusting that his boy knew what he was doing Jack held his peace.

"Tell DiNozzo to report in when he's done." Gibbs dismissed her.

Jackson watched his son's face as he turned away from the Israeli. The look of worry that furrowed his brow, vied with the dark shadows of concern in his eyes. Obviously, the deeper connection between him and DiNozzo went both ways.

"You go out and get another family without telling me, son?" He nudged.

"I care about all my people." Leroy defended his actions.

"You'd hug Ziva, but you wouldn't kiss her like you do Abby," Jackson observed astutely. "And you're patient enough to hold onto your temper with McGee even when he screws up but he doesn't tug at your soul like this Tony does. Young fella kind of reminds me of you when you were a youngster."

"You think?" Gibbs gave him an old fashioned look. "He always reminded me of you."

The two men stood side by side in silent accord, some of the tension leaking out of Gibbs' shoulders as he felt his father's hand land on his neck and rub gently, just like he had done himself so many times to DiNozzo. If the dammed kid had gone and got himself sick again he was going to kick his ass.

"Don't be too hard on the boy, Leroy," His father seemed to read his mind. "He risked his life to save that child. Maybe, he didn't follow your orders to the letter but can you tell me you would have done anything different when a little girl was scared and hurting?"

"I never had the plague."

"Would that have stopped you?" Jack raised a brow.

"Not for a second," Gibbs replied honestly. "But I've tried to teach him different."

"I tried to teach you to leave my rifle be," His father reminded him. "Look where that got me."

The look that Leroy gave him was priceless but he was in no position to argue that particular point. He had grown up to be a Marine sniper, after all.

"We don't get to live our children's lives for them," Jackson was still talking. "Best you can hope for is to raise 'em and right and set a good example and hope that will be enough to let them make the right choices."

Afterwards, Gibbs would blame the fact that he was in hometown and that talking to his father. Both of which made him feel like a teenager again rather than an NCIS team lead. Not to mention the fact that that he was so worried about bigger question of DiNozzo's physical and emotional state that he forgot to pay attention to the smaller things.

"I didn't raise DiNiozzo," Gibbs pointed out. "If I had been his father I would have made dammed sure he turned out different than his has."

"Boss?"

Both of them turned, to see DiNozzo still standing some distance away, but judging by his pale face and shocked expression, his sharp hearing had had no problem hearing exactly what his Boss had just said.


	6. Chapter 6

AN - So I have this chapter all written and when I came to close it I clicked the wrong button and lost all my changes. Anyway here it is finally. Thank you so much for all the encouraging reviews and for those who have been wondering I haven't forgotton about Safe Harbour - I promise it wil get finished.

* * *

Standing in his dripping wet clothes, with the blanket Abby had found for him clutched tightly around his slightly hunched shoulders, Tony shivered slightly as he stood, his eyes wide with shock in his pale features, making him look younger and more vulnerable than the suave and sophisticated Federal Agent who had fronted up at the store. Jack looked at his son with a raised brow, wondering exactly how he was going to fix this.

"Aw hell, DiNozzo," Leroy's tone was instantly contrite, the apology inherant in his words, as clear as day to anyone who knew him. "You know, I didn't mean it like that."

"Its okay, Boss," Tony pasted on a too bright smile, as he straightened his shoulders and spoke in an offhand manner that didn't fool either Gibbs. "We both know my father's never going to win any awards for father of the year. Let's face it, I'd probably be a better person if Mickey Mouse had raised me."

"Tony." Gibbs tried again.

"You know, I'm going to hitch a ride with the Paramedics back into town if that's alright, Boss. The Hospital Pharmacy can fill out my prescription from Brad and I need to change out of these wet clothes." Tony was all business. "I'll meet you back at the Store in a few."

"I've got a real sweet ride," Jack held up the keys to the Charger. He wasn't sure why but it seemed important not to let the young fella out of his sight. "You want to try her out?"

"I can drive?" Tony wanted to clarify, as he looked from one Gibbs to another.

"You got your license?" Jack asked.

Gibbs chin came up slightly, he knew that Tony had a story he loved to tell about how he had been driving since he was a kid. How he would always boast that he would borrow his Dad's Ferrari and drive it around the family estate until he landed it in a ditch just like on Ferris Buller's day off. When Tony simply nooded his assent he took that as a bad sign. Any day that DiNozzo passed up the chance to make a movie reference was not a good day.

"Then I guess you can drive," Jack threw him the keys. "Just give me a minute, willya? These old bones don't move as fast as you young folk."

He waited until the young fella was well out of earshot before fixing his son with a look. Leroy had the grace to look a bit embarrassed but beneath the awkwardnesss there was no disguising the real depth of worry in his eyes.

"There something about his father I should know, son?"

Gibbs looked away. He knew that to tell his father any details would be an enormous breach of DiNozzo's trust, painful truths things gradually confided over the years, usually after a particularly harrowing case and a large amount of bourbon, rightly belonged between just the two of them.

"Just take care of him will you?" He sighed.

Jack raised his brow at the unaccustomed note of defeat in his son's voice. If he had any lingering doubts that their relationship went deeper than Boss and subordinate they were dispelled in that instant. Still, that just made him wonder why his boy wasn't going all out to make this right.

"You don't think that's your job?"

"Yeah, because I did such a good job of that before," Leroy shook his head. "I'll take care of things here and drop Abby and Ziva at the Motel. That shoud give you some time to talk him around. He won't listen to me when he's like this."

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?" Jack wanted to know. "He doesn't even know me."

"I'll call McGee and get him to meet you at the Hospital with a change of clothes for DiNozzo," Gibbs chose not to answer that. "It shouldn't take him that long to sign a dammed piece of paper."

"You sure about that?" Jackson tilted his head meaningfully in the direction of the mine shaft. The other young fella had certainly managed to get himself into a whole mess of trouble for someone who had just stepped out to sign a piece of paper.

"Yeah well, that's DiNozzo for you," Gibbs gave a rueful smile as he moved to walk away. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Just keep an eye on him and stop him from doing anything stupid, like leaving town, will you?"

"Yeah, because I did such a good job of that with you." Jack grumbled.

The words stopped Gibbs in his tracks. He turned on his heel meeting his father's eyes. If this whole mess with DiNozzo had brought one thing into focus it was how good he had had things growing up. Whatever their disagreements in adulthood it was important that neither of them lost sight of that.

"You want to know why I think, DiNozzo will listen to you?" He asked quietly. "Because he may not know you but he knows me and he knows the man you raised me to be."

"That'll do it, huh?" Jack smiled.

"Works for me." Leroy flashed him a grin.

It was with a somewhat lighter step that Jackson made his way back to the Charger. He was slightly surprised to see the young fella still standing beside it, leaning against the hood as he waited for him. The summer evening wasn't exactly cold but given his sodden state Jack would have thought he'd be curled up inside with the heater on full blast to warn off any chill long before now.

"I gave you the keys. There a reason you didn't just get right on in?" He asked.

"I wasn't sure that our esteemed leader wouldn't persuade you to change your mind," Tony shrugged, his face expressionless. "He doesn't usually let me out of his sight once he gets like this."

"Feel like you got stuck with the second string, huh?" Jack teased, even as he plucked the keys out of the young fella's unresisting hands and opened the driver's door for him. As he walked around to the other side of the car he sure as hell hoped Leroy knew what he was doing, the boy was already feeling abandoned enough, making him think his Boss had palmed him off on his old man wouldn't do either of them any good. "How about you think of me as the vintage modal?"

"Gibbs original, huh?" Tony grinned briefly at him over the roof of the car.

It was only once DiNozzo had eased himself behind the wheel of the Charger without the least sign of discomfort, his whole body relaxing as he breathed in that unique mixture of smells that was a well-loved car, that Jack remembered about the bruises. As Tony started the car and pointed it back towards town, Jack frowned at the realisation. The movement has had to hurt, not to mention that squeezing his lanky frame behind the wheel had to put pressure on his sore spots.

"You OK there?" He nudged.

"What?" Tony looked genuinely confused, before realisation dawned. "Oh, you mean this..? This is nothing. During my career I've been stabbed, shot, blown up, half drowned, drugged, held hostage, chained to serial killer.."

"Those things all still hurt, son."

He used the word kindly without thinking how Tony might react, only realising what he said when he saw the boy flinch. Jack felt his jaw tighten at the thought of any parent who could raise his child to see physical pain as nothing worth bothering about but who saw the least bit of affection as out of the ordinary.

"How much did the Boss tell you about my father?" Tony said stifffly.

"You know better than that," Jack rebuked mildly. "Although, a blind man could see that he's worried sick about you."

"Oh, I'm a worry alright." Tony's jaw tightened.

"Are you still brooding about what Leroy said?" Jack seized the nettle.

"Who me?" Tony blinked, somewhat wrong footed by the direct approach. He hadn't expected the elder Gibbbs to just come and say it like that. "No, not at all. Well, maybe just a bit."

"Want to talk about it?"

That got him a sharp look, as Tony momentarily took his eyes from the road to give Jack a curious look. Jack hid his smile, guessing what was coming as the young man furrowed his brow and pointed a considering finger in his direction.

"Are you sure you two are related, because those words would never, ever, cross Leroy Jethro Gibb's lips."

"His Momma always told me he was my boy," Jack shrugged easily. "And she was a good woman, never gave a reason to think otherwise."

"Gibbs had a mother." Tony realised, momentarily sidetracked. "But he is an only child, right? There are no brothers or sisters? Or an evil twin no one ever talks about?"

"You watch a lot of TV, son?" Jackson asked, obviously amused.

"Actually, mostly movies, DVDs, old British classics," Tony smiled. "My Mother got me into watching those when I was small. She was English. I guess it was her way of keeping in touch with home. You know, this reminds me of a movie .."

"Hospital's just up here on the right." Jack indicated.

"Is that McGee?" Tony frowned at the figure hovering by the entrance, clutching a large plastic bag. "What's he doing here?"

He soon found out. Burrowing into the large plastic bag with a big grin on his face as if it was his birthday the non-descript pants he extracted earned McGee a raised brow and a disdainful look. But it was when he reached deeper into the bag and pulled out the large, garish, blue sweater that he realised the full horror of the situation.

"Is this your idea of an apology, McThrifty?"

"Give me a break, Tony. Gibbs told me to bring you a change of clothes. You were the one who packed nothing but one clean shirt and a change of underwear in your overnight bag. You don't have to wear it. It's your ass Gibbs will kick if he thinks you rushed down here to put your nose in his business without ensuring you had packerd the essentials."

"Hey, I brought Bourbon," Tony protested. "In Gibbsworld, that is an essential. I would have brought the dammed boat too if I could have figured out how to get it in the trunk."

"You'd have to have got it out the basement first." McGee pointed out.

"That wouldn't be so hard, I helped the Boss with the last one," Tony said absently, his attention still fully focused on the over sized blue sweater with its huge yellow sun set and large green cactus before thrusting it back at McGee. "Change it."

"I can't." McGee insisted.

"I'm a Federal Agent, McGee. I need to blend in. I've seen billboard's in Vegas that were more subtle than this. What if I had to go and interview a suspect? The colours alone would probably blind them. Not to mention if we got drawn into a fire fight, it would be like the ending of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid. I'd have nowhere to hide."

"That really the best you could do, Tim?" Jack put in. "It is kind of bright?"

"This is a small town. The only store still open was the Hospital gift shop," McGee defended himself. "And this was all they had even close to Tony's size."

"C'mon, son," Jack tugged gently on Tony's collar. "Leroy will have my hide if you catch a chill standing out here. Let's go get your meds and get you out of those wet things."

"You actually want me to wear this?" Tony protested. "In public? Where people can see?"


	7. Chapter 7

"_Make yourself at home."_

Jack's words echoed in Tony's mind as he hovered at the top of the stairs. At the end of the polished wooden hallway he glimpsed the old fashioned bathroom. On his left was a well kept double bedroom, whose dark wood, rich colours and range of personal touches claimed it as Jack's. On his right, was a second double bedroom, tastefully decorated in muted autumn colours, but it was the smaller room down the hall to his right that captured Tony's attention.

It was like a time capsule. The faded wallpaper and assorted pictures reflected the tastes of a teenage Gibbs. The shelves held a mixture of adventure books, and toy cars. In the window, pride of place went to a detailed, hand crafted, model of a wooden sail boat. As Tony's keen investigative gaze looked around at the neat furniture, the homemade rug on the floor and a lovingly stitched quilt carefully folded over the back of a chair he wondered what it must have been like to grow up in a home like this.

"Tony," McGee's voice asked. "Are you OK?"

Reflex painted a slightly bitter, self-mocking, smile on his face. He had been so excited about meeting Gibbs senior. And the man had been everything he had hoped for and more. But rather than making him feel like 'part of the family' actually being here only served to underline how far removed his own childhood had been from any of this. Feeling every one of his painful bruises he wondered what was keeping Gibbs.

"I'm just dandy, McGee," He responded absently, before shifting into senior Agent mode. "You sign off on those transfer papers for Kingston?"

"While you were up in X-ray," McGee nodded. The errand had only taken a few minutes and had made McGee feel even guiltier about tricking the senior Agent into being the one to go with the Deputy the first time around. "Then I stopped by Molly's family like you asked."

Tim wasn't quite sure why Tony had asked him to follow up on the little girl's care. He would have thought that as the hero of the hour DiNozzo would have wanted to be the one to check on her, eager to bask in the glory of their very genuine gratitude for saving their daughter's life. The parents had certainly wanted to meet him and shake his hand but Tony had been elusive, using every excuse from the medical procedures the Doctors wanted, to the fact that the ugly sweater would scare the child, to keep his distance.

"How's she doing?" Tony wanted to know.

"She's fine," McGee addressed his obvious concern before he offered a small bag. "She sent you this."

Tony eyed the small, pink, bag slightly warily before he accepted it, delving into its depths and extracted a crayon drawing that was obviously meant to be him holding Molly as the two of then were pulled to safety. He smiled, feeling unaccustomed warmth in his chest.

"That's nice.

"There's more." McGee added, looking a little awkward.

"There is?"

Tony reached back into the bag, to extract a fistful of grape suckers. His face breaking into a broad grin he took the wrapper off one of them, popped it in his mouth and began rolling it around his teeth with obvious satisfaction.

"Mmm grape, they're my favourite."

"I know," McGee shifted uncomfortably. "I helped her pick them out."

"You did?" Tony pulled the sucker out of his mouth and pointed it at McGee, almost as if it was a deadly weapon. "That was almost nice of you, Timmy. Should I be scared?"

"Look, Tony," McGee bit his lip. It wasn't easy to swallow his pride, but DiNozzo's cocky bravado, as the Doctors took one look at his medical history and ordered a whole barrage of uncomfortable and invasive medical tests had already humbled McGee as he was acutely reminded those dark days at Bethesda. "There's something I need to tell you .."

"If you are going to say that you already knew Jack cared enough to keep of Gibbs' childhood toys you can save your breath," Tony surprised him. "I already worked that one out for myself."

"And you're not trying to stuff my head down the toilet?" McGee joked a little nervously.

"Making a wager is all about knowing something the other guy doesn't," Tony shrugged without rancour. "I'll get my revenge the next time we play poker."

McGee opened his mouth then closed it. He had known that such an act of sentimentality would catch Tony out and worse, now Tony knew he understood that about him to. He wanted to say that there was a difference between calculating the odds or even rigging the deck and using someone's traumatic childhood experiences against him. But the look on Tony's face told him that voicing those sentiments would not be wise.

"Look, I really do want to make it up to you," He offered instead. "Tell you what, as soon as we get back to the city, I'll buy you a new jacket."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. C'mon Tony, that was a nice jacket. I saw the label. And I know how much you loved it. The least I can do is replace it for you. Just tell me where you bought it and I'll get you a new one."

"I didn't buy it. It was a present."

"Oh," McGee paused. Now he felt even worse. He had seen the way Tony had looked at the jacket, stroking it fondly when he didn't think anyone was looking. Obviously the gift had value far beyond its monetary cost. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone, must be pretty serious if she's buying you something that expensive."

"It was a present from Gibbs." Tony admitted.

"_Gibbs_ bought you that jacket?" McGee's eyes widened almost comically with stunned surprise. That the thrifty ex-marine would splurge that kind of cash on a single item of clothing spoke volumes. He visibly paled. "He's going to kill me isn't he?"

"Probably not actually kill you," Tony considered. "He'll just make you wish you were dead."

"Why are you being so nice about this?" Tim blurted, not backing down at DiNozzo's mildly surprised look. "C'mon Tony, I'm the Junior Agent. I had no right passing that errand off onto you. We both know it should have been me out there."

"Don't sweat it, Probie," Tony let him off the hook. "The Doc has already given me a clean bill of health. The pills are just a precaution. If it had to happen it was better for Molly that it was me out there. I've got more climbing experience than you do."

"And you're not scared of heights." McGee reminded him.

"That too," Tony shrugged.

"Look," McGee tried to think of some way to make this better. "I was just on my way back to the Motel to meet Ziva and Abby. Since we all missed dinner Jack recommended this Steakhouse on the outskirts of town. He says it's not fancy but it does a great Philly Cheese Steak, my treat."

"He's not going anywhere but straight to bed."

Tony hid his smile as McGee jumped at the unexpected voice. His own keen hearing had picked up the heavy tread on the stairs several minutes ago. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Jack sounded exactly like his son had in countless similar situations over the years. Part of him was grateful for the man's support, although the other part of him slightly resented the fact that his Boss obviously thought he needed a babysitter. He listed with half an ear as Jack gave McGee directions to the restaurant and sent him on his way.

He wondered what was keeping Gibbs.

"C'mon, young fella," A touch on his arm brought him back to the present, as Jack led him into the smaller room. "Let's get you settled."

"In here?" Tony blinked.

"Closer to the bathroom," Jack was matter of fact, as he went to a cupboard and began pulling out blankets and towels. "You shouldn't be moving around too much in your condition. Not if you want to give things a chance to settle down."

"What about Gibbs?" Tony asked. "Um, I mean, Jethro, Leroy."

"He'll be just fine down the hall."

Tony watched awkwardly as Jack made up the small wooden bed with sweet smelling linins and soft blankets. At one point he had stepped forward, opening his mouth to offer to help, only to close it again at a single look from Jack. When the man was done, he straightened up, and fixed Tony with a steady look.

"That was a real nice you just did for Tim. I'm not sure many folk would have been as understanding or as forgiving in the circumstances."

"You heard that, huh?" Tony wasn't particularly surprised to see Jack nod. The look of approval in his eyes was a rather more unexpected development. "It was mostly true and besides, Gibbs will kick his ass enough for both of us. He doesn't need me on his case too."

"That still wouldn't stop some folks getting their own pound of flesh," Jack observed. "You're a good man, Tony. I can see why Leroy thinks so highly of you."

"Sure didn't sound like that earlier." Tony couldn't help himself.

"Now son, you know better than that," Jack gave him a mildly reproving look. "Leroy didn't mean that the way it sounded. And if those fancy clothes of yours and all those movie references didn't put him off, you two have got to have something pretty special going for you."

"I know," Tony admitted. He _did _know, how many times had Gibbs told him in words and gestures how he felt about him? And they both knew that his childhood had been less than stellar. It was just that he had figured that Gibbs loved him even thought he was damaged goods. To discover that the man harboured a desire to fix him made him feel less than adequate. "I just never realised he cared so much about stuff that happened before we met."

"Boy never could just stand by and watch while other people suffered. That's just the way he is. He sees the ways the world has hurt folks and he just wants to make all that pain go away," Jack met his gaze. "Especially, for the people he loves."

"And if it can't be fixed?" Tony regarded him bleakly. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs has never been a man to settle for second best."

_AN - Tony and Gibbs coming next chapter - I promise .._


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Tony had spoken the words he wished he could take them back. This wasn't Jack's problem. What was he even thinking running off at the mouth to him like this? For his part, Jack's face creased into a frown as his eyes shone with an emotion that Tony was horribly afraid was disappointment.

"You know, I should go," Tony decided. "I can just check into the Motel with the others. Give you and Jethro a little privacy. You two haven't seen each other in a long time you should have some quality time, a chance to catch up."

"You're not going anywhere but straight to bed."

Tony's head came up sharply at the familiar voice, a wave of relief washing through him that was not remotely diminished by the scowl that his Boss was presently wearing. He was so glad to see him he didn't even notice the irony as his Boss repeated his father's earlier words. Jack had been great, more than great, but he wasn't Gibbs. Nothing ever seemed so bad when Gibbs was around, he had a way of anchoring Tony, of keeping his head on straight, like no-one else had ever managed.

"Can you give us a minute?" Gibbs looked at his father.

"I'll go see about putting something together for dinner," Jack excused himself, pausing as he reached his son's shoulder to speak in a voice he knew was loud enough for Tony to hear. "Go easy on him, son. It's been a real long day."

Gibbs' expression didn't change but Tony thought he saw a flicker of concern in his eyes as he turned back to look his senior field Agent up and down. He shook his head in apparent disgust as he took in what Tony was wearing.

"What the hell was McGee thinking?"

"I know," Even though it was none of his doing Tony felt the colour rise in his face at being caught dressed in such a hideous sweater. "Do you even have cacti in Pennsylvania?"

The swift look of surprise Gibbs gave him, followed by a sharp narrowing of his eyes and the disapproving snort as he took in the brightly coloured knitwear, alerted Tony to the fact that his Boss hadn't actually paid any attention to the garish sweater on his initial appraisal.

"Never seen one that looks like that any place," Gibbs shook his head. "I was talking about those dammed jeans."

"Oh." Tony realised.

It was true that the stiff, new fabric had been hell to get on over his bruised and tender flesh. The unyielding utilitarian material, designed to be hardwearing rather than fashionable or comfortable, rubbed and chafed every time he moved, his black silk boxers offering almost no protection. Now that his bruises had blossomed and swelled to their full extent he seriously doubted that he would ever get the dammed things off again. But he thought he had done a good job of hiding his discomfort. Nobody else had noticed. But then Gibbs seemed to have some special kind of radar for noticing things Tony tried to keep hidden.

"The only way you're getting out of those is if I cut them off you," Gibbs stepped into the room and settled himself on the bed as he pulled out his knife. "C'mere."

"Boss!" Tony protested, instinctively taking a step back and using both hands to cover his most precious assets.

Gibbs gave him an oddly patient look, his gaze softening a little as the hint of a smile tugged fondly at the corner of his lips.

"I'll be careful."

Searching his expression Tony saw nothing but total sincerity and a genuine desire to help. Nervously he edged a little closer, closing his eyes tight shut and wiling himself not to flinch when his Boss took hold of the leg of the jeans and started to cut his way up the seams.

"Generations of future DiNozzo's will thank you for your restraint, Boss," He managed. With an effort he held still as Gibbs deftly worked his way up to his thighs, before turning his attention to the other seam. "Um, you already know that the bruising is bad, don't you? There's not a lot of point in my trying to hide that from you, is there?"

"Not a whole lot."

"That's kind of what I thought." Tony nodded.

"Alright, step out."

Gingerly, Tony lifted one foot and then the other, leaning gratefully into the support Gibbs offered until he could find his feet. Twisting around to look at the back of his legs, even Tony couldn't suppress a whistle as he took in just how spectacular the bruising had become in just a few hours. And he knew how much they hurt. Looking up he wasn't surprised to see Gibbs' expression darken.

"It looks worse than it is." He tried to reassure.

"What did the Hospital say?" Gibbs surprised him.

"Um, the Hospital?" Tony stalled.

"Yeah, DiNozzo the Hospital," Gibbs pressed, his eyes narrowing as he took in his senior field Agent's expression. "That place where I sent you to get your meds and get checked out. If you even think of telling me you didn't go .."

"No, no, I went," Tony assured him. "I just didn't tell them about the bruising."

"You Didn't Tell Them?" Gibbs spoke each word carefully, as if trying to hold onto his temper and obviously losing the battle as his voice began to rise. "You mind telling me why the hell not?

"Aw c'mon Gibbs, they had already spent so long poking and prodding me, I had X-rays, a blood test, had to blow into this big plastic thing, I'm telling you, the works. I just wanted to get out of there."

"I swear, DiNozzo, if the next words out of your mouth are 'its just a few bruises' Gibbs left the threat hanging.

"I never said it didn't hurt." Tony defended himself.

That gave him a sharp look and Tony was sure he saw a hint of surprise at the honest admission. But Gibbs' only response was a sharp nod as he ducked next door and a moment later Tony heard the water running as the faucet was turned on. Seconds later a soothing, rich scent cut through the air as Gibbs added something to the running water. There was the sound of someone rummaging in a medicine cabinet and then Gibbs returned holding a large jar of ointment, which he placed on the side table.

"Go take a bath. I'll find you something else to put on."

Tony had to admit that the bath loosened things up a bit. Whatever Gibbs had put in the water did wonders for his aches and pains. What it couldn't do was ease his other worries. Gibbs was already disappointed in him before he found out that he hadn't exactly followed the spirit of his instructions. And he had somehow managed to disappoint Jack as well. As he carefully patted himself dry and wrapped the towel around his waist the idea of facing Gibbses squared across the dinner table was suddenly much less appealing. Of should that be Gibbs squared? Math had never been his subject.

"Here." Gibbs came in without knocking. "Put this on."

Tony's eyes narrowed at the item Gibbs held out. He could see the thin blue, stripes, and a small part of the collar, but surely it could not be what he thought it was. Taking the item from his Boss, he held it up in stunned disbelief.

"Does it come with a cap?"

"DiNozzo, just put it on." Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Gibbs, that's not even a pair of pyjamas, it's a _night shirt_."

"You have a problem with that?"

"Who me?" Tony shook his head. "No. Not me. No problem at all, because I'm not freaking wearing it."

"DiNozzo."

"Boss," Tony lowered his voice, even though there was nobody to overhear them. "I'll look like an extra from Little House of the Prairie. It's embarrassing."

"You'll look like a Federal Agent who got injured in the line of duty saving the life of a little girl," Gibbs corrected. "There's nothing embarrassing about that."

Tony gave that little speech the scathing look it deserved. They both knew that he had screwed up. It would have made more sense to send the inexperienced deputy down to collect the girl, or at least to have doubled checked the ropes were properly tied off. If Gibbs hadn't ridden to the rescue Molly could have gotten sick or worse as they waited for help to come.

"C'mon, Boss," Tony returned his attention to the matter in hand. "If Ziva or Probie see me dressed like this I will never hear the end of it."

Gibbs considered his next words carefully. He hadn't missed the look that had darkened Tony's expression at the suggestion that he had acted like a hero. And they would get to that. But not when the younger man was standing in a puddle of water with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He was gonna get sick again. Keeping his expression carefully neutral he issued a mild challenge.

"Who's going to tell them?"

Tony paused. The well-washed cotton did feel really soft and now that the sun had gone down the late summer evening had turned a little chill. Like his son Jack seemed to like to keep his place a degree or two colder than Tony usually liked which meant that his usual habit of sleeping in the buff was not such an attractive alternative. And the free flowing shape would slip softly over his bruises.

"You promise?" He needed to be sure. "Not one word. Not a single smirk or sideways glance. Not one teeny tiny picture on your phone," He paused, reflecting. "Not that you probably know how to take pictures with your phone. Or even that it can do that."

Gibbs gave him a look.

"You promise," Tony nodded. "Got it, Boss."

"DiNozzo."

Gibbs nodded at the soft fabric, still clutched in his senior field Agent's hand. Tony followed his gaze, narrowing his eyes at the old-fashioned night garb, even as he was warmed by Gibbs peculiar brand of TLC. He was going to look like a dork. Looking back up at his Boss' implacable expression, he resigned himself to the inevitable and made to pull it over his head. Although, not without one final riposte.

"I'd almost rather wear the sweater," His head covered in the fabric, he didn't see Gibbs' amused grin. He flailed around a little as he fitted arms to arm holes, but as his head popped out the top he froze in the act of pulling it down and fixed Gibbs with a horrified look as a dreadful thought just occurred to him.

"Please tell me no-one died wearing this."


	9. Chapter 9

AN - Huge apologies for the long delay and many many thanks for your patience and all the encouraging reviews. If only I was paid to do this I would update more regularly! One more chapter to go - I'll try and get it up this week.

* * *

Predictably the only response Gibbs was prepared to give that _that _particular remark was a roll of his eyes leaving DiNozzo none the wiser as to whether Grandpa Gibbs had gone to meet his maker wearing the cotton nightshirt. Knowing it was a _very _bad idea he still glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror slightly shocked at how young and innocent the old fashioned garb made him look. Still, it was _really_ comfortable - if a bit draughty around an area he _really _wasn't used to feeling draughts.

"Bed." Gibbs' voice broke into his thoughts.

Tony thought about arguing that it was still light outside. And that most Federal Agents he knew didn't have a bedtime. But he knew that there was no arguing with Gibbs' when he got like this. And the truth be told, the effort of trying to appear 'just fine' was taking its toll. He hurt physically from his bruises and he ached emotionally, feeling set apart from this family by his own upbringing. Part of him wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and pull the covers over his head for the rest of his life.

"Yes sir."

Looking at DiNozzo's back as he followed his senior field agent from the bathroom into the small bedroom, Gibbs' brow furrowed at the unexpectedly meek rejoinder. He watched the younger man climb carefully into the small, narrow, bed. DiNozzo only called him "sir" when he was feeling especially nervous or anxious, slipping back into the well-learned patterns of his childhood, to avoid authoritarian wrath. When Tony showed signs of settling down for the night he picked the jar of ointment off the night stand.

"Don't forget this."

"You're not thinking of rubbing that in are you?" Gibbs was relieved to see Tony show a spark of his usual spirit as he eyed the pot warily.

"You want me to?"

Tony's eyes widened as he regarded his mentor. Not doubting the sincerity in his tone. All he had to do was nod and Gibbs would be as good as his word. As a boy he would have given anything to have his father take care of him with deft hands and gentle words. But here and now his manly dignity recoiled in horror at the very idea.

"No, I can manage," He met Gibbs eyes, sincere in his turn. "But thanks."

Gibbs eyes narrowed slightly and for a moment Tony thought he might object but then his Boss nodded once before putting the jar back down on the night table. Tony's eyes tracked his Boss' movements as he replaced the jar on the nightstand and went to give him some privacy, torn between pride at convincing Gibbs of his competence and disappointment that he had been left to his own devices. He made a rueful face. Not like it was the first time he'd felt that way.

For his part Gibbs paused on the stairs, as he heard the rustle of sheets and soft cussing as his senior field Agent found it a little trickier than he expected to apply the cream to all his sore spots. He almost turned right on his heel and barged right back in there. It was always such a fine line with DiNozzo, to know when to trust that DiNozzo was actually fine and when to ride roughshod over his objections and offer the care the younger man's pride and upbringing made him reluctant to ask for.

"Sounds like your boy's having a little trouble up there," Jack observed from the stove. "Would it kill you to give him a hand?"

"I offered, he said no."

Even as he said it, Gibbs scowled at the fact that he felt the need to explain his actions to his father. If any of the others had asked, he would have offered little more than a terse _DiNozzo can handle it_. And from the look Jack shot in his direction from where he was stirring a pan of gravy on the stove he knew his words had revealed more about his frustration with his stubborn senior field Agent than he was truly comfortable with.

"Maybe, if you were a little nicer to him." Jack suggested.

"He doesn't like it when I'm nice to him." Gibbs murmured, still with half an ear on the activity upstairs.

"He tell you that?" Jack raised a brow, clearly sceptical. "And you believed him?"

Gibbs head came around sharply at that, biting back his instinctive response that he knew what was best for DiNozzo when he saw the genuine concern on his father's face. He knew that Jack was smart enough to have worked out that Tony had had a hard time of it growing up. For all his incessant talking the younger man when it came to anything emotional the younger man was at least as closed mouthed as Gibbs himself. The ex-marine had always tried to respect the boundaries that Tony had set, knowing that he expected the same. It had never occurred to him that he might have been wrong about that.

"He doesn't make it easy." He admitted.

"Nothing worthwhile ever is," Jack counselled. "Keeping things bottled up is never healthy son."

"You talking about him or me?"

Jack shrugged as he worked on putting the finishing touches to their dinner. To his mind it was obvious that the young fella worshipped the ground Leroy walked on and wanted to make him proud. Little wonder then that he tried to emulate him and shrug off his hurts. But Jack suspected that underneath the self depreciating humour still lurked the sensitivities of a young boy forced to grow up without the love and support he needed.

"I'm just saying, a kind word or two now and again, might work wonders. That young fella is still smarting from what you said this morning. Seems like he always figured you accepted him for how he was. Now he worries he's never gonna measure up. Apparently, you don't settle for second best."

"He actually said that?" Gibbs frowned. "DiNozzo's a good Agent. He knows that."

"Are you sure about that son? Seems to me he sets pretty high standards for himself. Even got Tim to check up on young Molly because he didn't feel he deserved any fuss."

"He did?" Gibbs hadn't known that, but he supposed he should have expected it. For all his grandstanding, DiNozzo was all too prone to play down his real achievements.

"Besides, I don't think he was just talking about being your Agent," Jack was still talking. "He's much more worried about losing your good opinion. You treat that boy like a son you can hardly blame him for wanting to make you proud."

"He does." Gibbs spoke quietly.

"You ever tell him that?" Jack asked knowingly.

Gibbs opened his mouth to answer that, only to snap to attention as a loud "thud" from above was accompanied by a sharp cry of pain as DiNozzo's contortions caused him to roll him off the bed to land heavily on the hardwood floor. Double timing it up the stairs, Gibbs raced into his former bedroom to see his senior field Agent curled up in agony, as he bit his lip hard against the waves of debilitating pain.

"Sorry, Boss," Tony managed, his eyes still squeezed tight shut in testament to his agony, even as he struggled to sit up in the presence of his mentor. "Guess I zigged when I should have zagged."

"Damn it, DiNozzo," Gibbs exclaimed in frustration, moving forward to still the younger man's movements, before he could do any further damage to himself, trying to live up to some sort of standard he figured Gibbs measured him by. "Hold still."

Concern made him speak more sharply than he intended, even so he was surprised when Tony flinched away from his touch, his hands coming up defensively, as if to protect him self from a blow, that usually only happened after a nightmare or when the younger man was suffering the disorienting effects of medication or too long undercover.

"Sorry," Tony apologised, a hollow tone to his voice, opening his eyes a crack, but rolling his head away so he didn't have to meet Gibbs' gaze. "Didn't mean anything by it, Boss."

"Let's get you back into bed," Gibbs decided. "Then we'll talk."

That opened Tony's eyes with a snap, surveying his usually taciturn Boss with honest surprise, even as he allowed him to haul him up and ease him back onto the mattress.

"Talk?" He blinked. "We, um, don't usually do that, Boss."

He decided, wisely in his opinion, not to comment on the fact that the ex-marine was busy tucking the bedcovers around him. Or the way he sat himself on the mattress beside him and fixed him with an unreadable look.

"I'm going to put a formal reprimand in McGee's file," Gibbs first words surprised him. "Its one thing for him to grow a backbone around the office, but in the field I expect my team to follow the chain of command."

"C'mon, Boss," Tony tried to sit up a little straighter, ignoring the way Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the movement. "That's a little harsh. It was just a stupid bet. No harm, no foul. Besides, I was the ranking officer. If you want to write anyone up, it should be me. It was my screw up."

"Funny," Gibbs looked contemplative. "I thought you were the one who saved that little girl."

"Well," Tony looked away. "If you want to get technical about it, Ziva was actually the one who saved her. I just fell on my ass."

Gibbs fingers itched to slap some sense into the younger man, but mindful of how jittery the younger man was he reached out and put a gentle hand under his chin instead, bringing his face around to meet his eyes, so there could be no doubt that he meant what he said.

"You risked your life to save a little girl. It wasn't your fault that the Deputy screwed up."

"It wasn't?" Tony looked him at him uncertainly. "You were pretty mad at me."

"Uh huh," Gibbs agreed easily. "And I should kick your ass for scaring me like that."

"I think my ass is already paying the price," Tony pointed out fervently. Then he blinked. "I scared you? You were scared? Because of me?"

"Not like it was the first time." Gibbs reminded him.

"No, I guess not," Tony conceded. He figured he was probably responsible for a number of Gibbs' grey hairs over the years. "I don't know why you put up with me."

"Yeah," Gibbs reached out and tapped his cheek gently. "You do."

Neither of the men were prepared for the heavy tread on the stairs as Jackson Gibbs appeared in the doorway, his usually genial expression dark with disapproval.

"Is that the best you can do?"


	10. Chapter 10

AN - Well, here is finally the final chapter. Many thanks for sharing this journey with me - hope the ending doesn't disappoint and I will get bakc to SH just as soon as I can and I promise I will finish that before I write anything else!

* * *

Jack wasn't remotely surprised when Leroy turned around, to fix him with a decidedly irritated look. What caused his eyebrows to raise was that, before his boy could even open his mouth, it was the young fella who responded.

"Mr Gibbs, I appreciate what you are trying to do but there's really no need. Everything's fine now."

"You sure about that, son?" Jack asked, taking a step into the room and fixing Tony with a level look. "Seems to me you and Leroy here have a whole bunch of things you need to talk about."

"Like the way your son thinks I'm a good Agent?" Tony challenged. "I wouldn't be on his team if _he_ didn't think that. Or how he is proud of the way I stepped up to the plate when he was in Mexico. He would never have handed off the responsibility if _he_ didn't think I was ready to do it. Or the way he's taught me everything he knows and always has my six, even when I've screwed up, because _he_ thinks I'm worth it."

"DiNozzo." Gibbs murmured.

"I know," Tony looked at his Boss, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I know_ you_ think I'm worth it. I understand that _you_ wouldn't have trusted anyone else with the lives of your people and I get that _you_ think I'm the best investigator you've ever worked with. _I_ just .. _I can't _.. "

"Maybe, you'd find it easier to believe if you heard it said every once in a while." Jackson wasn't ready to give up.

"He's tried," Tony defended his Boss. "I don't make it easy for him. If he tends to use actions rather than words then that's because that's what we are both more comfortable with. Besides, praise isn't about showing love or affection, it's designed to motivate, you only deserve it when you've done better than your best."

"Is that what you think?" Gibbs sounded surprised.

"Well .. yeah." Tony looked a little confused at his Boss' reaction.

"Looks like the two of you have something to talk about after all." Jack observed.

Gibbs swivelled his head upwards, in a silent plea to his father to give the two of them some privacy. Recognising that the admission had rocked his son, Jack backed out of the room to see if their dinner was still anywhere close to edible. The NCIS team lead waited until he was out of earshot before turning his attention to the young man in the bed.

"C'mon Boss," Tony squirmed slightly under the focused gaze. "We don't have to do this."

"You want to me the one to explain that to my father?" Gibbs raised a brow.

"Hell no," Tony shook his head fervently. "That guy is like something out of "The Waltons" all genial smiles and homespun advice but if you disobey him he would probably cut a switch and take you out to the woodshed for a whipping."

"You think?" Gibbs wrinkled his brow at the observation. "He never raised a hand to me growing up."

"Never? As in not ever? Not even one single time?" Tony frowned, shock and disbelief writ plain across his face, it was obviously a concept that he had difficultly in grasping. "You know, Gibbs, somehow I can't see you as the perfect child. Now, Probie, maybe, I'll bet his parents never had to spank. But you ..?"

"Oh, I had my moments," Gibbs gave a rueful smile. "But my Mom was always the strict one. And a look from her was usually enough to bring me back into line."

He expected some sort of come back. The idea of Leroy Jethro Gibbs being cowed by a maternal glare should have been worth at least a raised eyebrow from DiNozzo. But the younger man just pressed his lips together, his face taking on a thin, pinched, look as he started straight ahead.

"Works pretty well on you too." Gibbs observed gently.

"Most of the time," Tony acknowledged, a little bitterly. "I've always been more of a 'hands on' project."

Gibbs sighed. He had been afraid of this. He had learnt enough from the bourbon fuelled snippets Tony had let slip in his basement over the years to know that David DiNozzo had laid down the law to his young son with a heavy hand and a thick leather belt. No wonder the younger man had flinched away from him. Lying on his stomach with a throbbing butt must have been all too stark a reminder of his childhood beatings.

"You finish up putting that ointment on?" He asked neutrally.

"Yeah," Tony faltered a little when Gibbs fixed him with a steady gaze. "Mostly."

He didn't want to admit how the fall off the high wooden bedstead onto the unyielding floor had made his injuries flair up. He had already taken the painkillers Gibbs had given him, so he would just have to tough it out. The last thing he expected was for the ex-marine to reach over and pick up the jar of ointment from where it still stood on the nightstand.

"Roll over."

"What?" Tony's jaw dropped, even as he felt his face flame. "No, really, Boss. That's not necessary."

"You still hurting?" Gibbs' tone demanded the truth.

"I've had worse." Tony stubbornly held out.

"I know," Gibbs said simply, softening his expression. "Let me help you, Anthony."

DiNozzo's expression reflected his surprise at the unaccustomed use of his entire first name, recognising it as Gibbs way of trying to convey the depth of his sincerity and respect for a man he might love like a son, but viewed as a near equal. Not many had earned the kind of leeway he allowed his senior field Agent after all. Unable to form any words as his throat closed with emotion, Tony just nodded soundlessly and rolled obediently onto his stomach, trying not to tense up as Gibbs pulled back the covers, raised his nightshirt and set to work.

"Cold hands, Boss." He managed after a few silent minutes.

"Sorry."

The decidedly strangled tone to Gibbs' voice as much as the apology itself had Tony twisting his head around to look at his Boss. As he took in the iron hard line of his jaw, clenched tight enough to break a tooth, and the burning fury in his eyes, even as he continued his gentle ministrations, Tony didn't need to be a trained investigator to work out what was bothering his Boss as his fingers ghosted across the normally faint silver scars, which stood out with unusual starkness across the red mottled, swollen, skin.

"Nothing you didn't already know about, Jethro." He spoke quietly.

"Doesn't make it right." Gibbs shook his head.

"You won't get any argument from me there," Tony agreed fervently as he settled back. He waited until Gibbs had finished up and draped the covers back over him, before stretching out carefully, letting his features relax as he realised he really did feel much better. "You have magic figures, Boss. Those three ex-wives must have been really hard to please."

"Yeah well, I wasn't exactly blameless, I wanted what I had with Shannon," Gibbs busied himself putting the lid on the jar of the ointment to avoid looking at his senior field knowing his next words would hit home. "But I've never been one to settle for second best."

Tony stilled and Gibbs knew better than to let the silence stretch out too long.

"Not back then," He continued, putting a finger under Tony's chin and drawing it around until he made eye contact, before saying firmly. "And not here and now."

"But you said .." Tony argued.

"And I meant every word," Gibbs agreed. "If I had raised you I would have done a far better job than that sorry excuse for a father of yours. But that doesn't change the fact that you did a dammed fine job of raising yourself. You're a good man, DiNozzo."

"I screwed up today," Tony reminded him. "I never should have gone all lone ranger like that."

"Wouldn't have been there in the first place if it wasn't for McGee." Gibbs huffed.

"You're just mad because I got hurt," Tony pointed out with some justice. "That wasn't McGee's fault. And he already feels bad enough a formal reprimand isn't going to accomplish anything."

"Alright," Gibbs conceded. "I'll let him off with a warning, this time. But it's not the first time he's tried to do an end run around you. He starts making a habit of it and I'll make sure he lives to regret it."

"Fair enough," Tony braced himself. "What about me?"

"I ever tell you about the first time my Dad took me fishing?" Gibbs asked.

"No, boss, I can honestly say that you never have."

"Whole thing was a disaster," Gibbs gave a rueful smile. "Managed to cut myself with my own hook, drop my brand new fishing pole into the river and loose one of sneakers in the mud. At the end of the day the only thing I'd managed to catch was an old tree branch. And you know what my Dad said to me as we were walking home? He told me he was proud of me."

"That's .. nice?" Tony hazarded, obviously confused.

"What you did today," Gibbs held his gaze. "Maybe, you didn't exactly follow procedure and it sure as hell didn't turn out as well as you planned. But sometimes it's just about doing your damndest. You knew the risks but you couldn't stand there and watch a crying child be cold and scared for one second longer than you could help. Made her parents very happy and made me proud."

"Oh." Tony managed, as a wash of warm pleasure made him blush.

"Thinking I should probably tell you that more often." Gibbs admitted.

"Don't strain yourself, Boss," Tony smiled. "McGee already thinks we're dating, if you pay me too many compliments he'll start a pool on us moving in together."

"I hope he knows he owes you a jacket."

"Doesn't matter, I have lots of other jackets," Tony shrugged that off before looking slightly shy. "Another jacket just wouldn't be the same."

Gibbs hid his own smile at that. The look of pleasure on Tony's face when he realised that his Boss had gone to the trouble of hunting down the exact jacket he had been talking about for weeks would live with him for a long time. Still, the fact remained that the cold water had ruined the expensive material and the younger man didn't have any other jackets _here. _And Gibbs didn't think even a direct order would be enough to force DiNozzo back into that garish cacti sweater.

"Anyone here want some chicken soup?" Jack stood in the doorway, holding three earthenware mugs.

"Soup?" Gibbs raised a brow.

"Well, the soufflé died, the roast got burned and the pot luck I was making boiled dry while the two of you were yakking. So, soup it is," Jack passed out the mugs, pausing to raise a brow at Tony's night attire. "Didn't that used to belong to Grandpa Williams?"

"I _knew _it." Tony scowled at his Boss.

"I'll send McGee out to buy a change of clothes in the morning," Gibbs observed blandly.

"Not comforting Gibbs," Tony observed darkly, over the rim of his mug. "Besides, I already have a shirt and my pants will be fine once they dry out."

"Still a nip in the air," Gibbs vetoed that. "You'll need a sweater."

"I might be able to help with that." Jack offered.

"That's really not necessary," Tony called after the retreating figure, making a face as his words elicited no reaction. Turning his attention to his totally unsympathetic Boss, he fixed the man with a glare as he lowered his voice to a hiss. "C'mon, Boss, I've seen his wardrobe and, no offence, but don't you think I've been embarrassed enough for one day?"

"Here you go, son. This looks about your size."

Tony barley had time to rearrange his features into an acceptable mask before Jack returned. His eyes widening he blinked as he took in the cream coloured sweater with the roll neck collar. It looked like the kind of thing Cary Grant might have worn in his youth. Or maybe, Sean Connery, his face lighting into a genuine smile, Tony felt the soft wool between his fingers.

"Very James Bond." He waggled his eye brows as he did the accent. "Are you sure you won't miss it?"

"Least I can do," Jack assured him. "Seeing as you took up all that room in your bag to bring me that fancy bourbon."

Tony opened his mouth to reply to that, only to find his words stolen away by a massive yawn. As Jack and Gibbs exchanged an amused look, he felt his Boss rescue the still half full mug from his hand and pass it off to his father. As he scooted carefully down in the narrow bed Tony felt deft hands pulling the covers up around him,

"Get some rest, Tony."

"Goodnight, Boss. Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite."

The sardonically raised eyebrow was frankly more of a response than he had expected. As Gibbs turned out the main light, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of the hallway, Tony watched through heavy lids, as his Boss reached into his pants pocket and pressed something in his lax hand, closing his fingers over it with a light pat, much as he had that time under the blue light of the isolation chamber in Bethesda.

"Goodnight .. son."

Tony froze, almost not daring to breathe, as his Boss made his way out into the hallway. Still not quite sure if he had heard the words right, he let his fingers explore the unmistakable outline of a Matchbox Ferrarai with its figure of a driver and four distinctive wire wheels. In the half light Tony smiled braodly as he settled himself more comfortably for sleep. Maybe, it wasn't that hard to imagine what it would have been like growing up in this household after all.


End file.
